


I Plead the Fifth on All of This

by cecilkirk



Series: fic prompts [8]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, Ryden, Smut, this is just meant to be funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:44:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilkirk/pseuds/cecilkirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon and Ryan are caught in the act, and they can't refute the evidence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Plead the Fifth on All of This

"We've been off tour for three hours, Ryan."

"So?" he mutters against Brendon's skin.

"So," Brendon laughs, pushing Ryan's chest away from his, "you shouldn't rush. There's no need to."

Ryan peers into Brendon's eyes, deep enough for heat to bloom on Brendon's cheeks. "I never want to waste a moment with you."

Brendon takes a step forward, guiding the two of them away from the front door. Without looking away, Brendon pushes the door shut. It is a clean, swift noise, and it is all the affirmation of privacy Ryan needs.

Between empty promises and midnight whisperings against skin and clothes, carried on bated breath and permitting the travels of illuminated fingertips, Brendon's thoughts overtake him. His extremities feel miles away, his skin somehow both thick and extra-sensitive. Every touch and kiss and-- _fuck,_ even every grab and tug brings him to the surface of his body, pulling him out of the waves of his thoughts with every susurration and illicit meeting of skin.

Ryan plunges his hand into Brendon's pants, and he can no longer exist in the back of his mind.

But the loss of control is still there, and Brendon watches and waits with wide eyes and short, huffing breaths as Ryan's head sinks, aware of his fingers curling against the walls, aware of his toes digging into the floor, aware of everything that is physical and sensuous, and fuck,  _fuck_ \--

The two of them hear squeaking hinges before they register pain.

With a crisp, clean  _pop_ , Ryan pulls his head back. Brendon's face burns at the noise.

Ryan and Spencer say the exact same thing at the exact same time:

"What the fuck?"

Brendon's eyes meet Jon's, who immediately looks away when he realizes Brendon is stuffing himself back into his pants. Brendon's pores feel like they are filled with candle flame. The side of his head throbs from the door. He reaches a hand to touch it just as Ryan's does to his own, and the synchronicity of it makes Brendon drop his hand in embarrassment.

"What do you mean, 'what the fuck'?" Ryan asks, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "This is my apartment. Why did you two just barge in here?"

"Because we've been trying to call you two all day, and neither one of you answered," Spencer says, looking over Brendon and Ryan with eyes scanning for a reasoning he can understand. "But--well, Jesus, we know what made you so busy."

Somehow, Brendon and Jon meet eyes again. Both look away immediately, like the repelling of identical magnets.

"Well," Ryan concedes on a deep exhale, "that's that. I mean, this is this."

Spencer blinks. "What?"

"I _mean_ ," Ryan says, annoyance hardening the sides of his voice, "I can't really deny anything. You saw it. It's real. It happened. Let's just move on."

Jon laughs nervously, a terse bark on an awkward pitch. It doesn't do much to break the tension.

"Well...shit," Spencer laughs. "It'll take some time to move on from this sight, Ryan."

"Shut the fuck up, Spence," Ryan spits, but Brendon can hear it's not without the inner stitching of a giggle. Evidently Spencer's ears are equally as finely tuned because he begins to grin.

"Let's just go get food, yeah?" Brendon finally offers, nerves making his words waver.

"Yeah. Yeah," Spencer laughs, rubbing the back of his neck and laughing easily. "Sorry for, uh, hitting you two."

"No worries," Ryan says hurriedly, grabbing their keys and shoving Spencer and Jon out. He shoots Brendon a look--of what exactly, Brendon can't tell--and it leads to an eruption of embarrassed laughs and secretive grins.

"No regrets," Brendon says, following Jon and Spencer.

"No regrets," Ryan concurs, slapping Brendon's ass as he shuts the door behind them.

 

 


End file.
